The Modern Adventures of Steve Rogers
by The Irish Lass
Summary: Steve knows the world has changed. But to what extent? Features all the Avengers and Pepper. Fluff and feelings abound. Cover: modern by xthebucketwhisperer on DeviantART!
1. Chapter 1

Drunk

"I'm telling you, it's impossible to get him drunk." Natasha shook her head at Tony. "His metabolism runs 4.2 times faster than a normal human's." Natasha, Clint and Tony were all in one of Stark Tower's huge work-out rooms, all working on various projects. Natasha was sharpening already too- sharp-for- Tony's- liking knives, Clint was fiddling with a new type of arrow (supposedly, you could implant information into it and not have to go to SHIELD to fill out your reports. Steve had rolled his eyes at the idea, but Tony had been fascinated and offered one of his labs for the research.), and Tony was holding up an amber liquid in a glass bottle.

"So? If a shot of this scotch can bring down the Hulk-"

"Which was a horrible idea." Clint interrupted.

"-I'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure that even wonder man Steve Rogers can't take it." Tony finished. "And it was a great idea." He retorted to Clint's earlier statement. "Did you see Banner's face the next morning? It was hilarious."

Natasha's lips twitched. "Not nearly as hilarious as what Pepper did to you when she found her kitchen counters in half."

Tony winced at the memory. Silent glares had been directed at him all day from Banner, Pepper and Steve (Steve liked the kitchen. And, surprise, he could cook pretty well. Tony just had to add that to the list of why Steve had so freaking many fangirls.).

"Come on. If it took down the Hulk, Rogers doesn't have a chance." Tony whined.

"Tell you what, if Steve gets drunk from that," Natasha indicated the bottle with a razor sharp knife, "I'll give you a hundred bucks. And I'll tell Steve it was my idea."

"Yeah, because he won't kill you." Clint snorted, adjusting the flight tip on one of the arrows in front of him.

"But if it doesn't work, you pay both of us a hundred dollars- shut it, Stark. You're a billionaire, you can handle it- and you dance around the tower singing that Iron Man song you made up last week. Yes, we both saw it." Natasha grinned evilly.

Tony huffed. "Sure. Make sure you have that money ready, because this bottle and I," he shook the flask for emphasis, "are going to win this thing." He grinned his evil scientist grin and carefully set the liquor on the counter top, sliding it into the corner farthest from any work space to ensure its absolute safety. "If that thing moves, I'm reporting you to Fury for not filling out the last assignment's reports. So no, no, no touching. Got it?"

The assassins exchanged a glance, mirth bubbling behind their eyes. "Sure." Clint replied easily. "Bonus points- not bonus money, but points- if you can get Thor drunk."

Tony's eyes lit up. "Sure. The God of Lightening and Storms drunk. Now that will be a blast. Excuse me while I go make party arrangements." He nearly bounced out of the lab, eyes bright at the challenge.

Natasha turned to Clint. "Think he has a chance?" She snickered.

"Not a chance in Hell." Clint smirked back.

"Yo, Steve, Thor." Tony stepped out of the elevator (Steve swore he had never seen the man take the stairs if he had a choice.) "What do you think of some alcohol and drinking tonight in the lab?"

Steve blinked at him. "Alcohol. Don't you normally drink it? Unless you're into hoarding it."

Tony waved his hand. "I had to make it obvious, right? So you guys up for it?"

Thor beamed. "Certainly, Friend Tony. I have yet to taste Midguardian brew, and you seem to possess excessive quantities of the liquid."

Steve shrugged. "Sure. I'm willing to bet you have some of the best stuff in the world here. It'd be interesting."

Tony rubbed his hands together. "Yep. Very interesting."

Six hours later, Thor was regaling yet another tale of one of his battles, gesturing largely with his glass of whiskey-cola. "I smote the beast, and the fair lady Sif dealt with the armies, while the Warriors Three fought the devil himself!" He enthusiastically proclaimed.

"Wow. That's great." Steve, still wide-eyed and alert listened to the fortieth battle retelling. He showed no sign that anything he had been given was stronger than tea. "So where was Odin?"

"Odin was still at home, dealing with his own worries." Tony supplied. So far, he had given Steve five different types of whiskey, a martini, sake, and rum. Lots of rum. Tony was almost as wasted and dopey as Thor, but he had been saving the specialty and purpose of the night for last. "Here." He slurred, pulling the special scotch from its counter corner, where it had sat undisturbed until now. "Try this, Captain." His hands trembled slightly as he tried to slosh some of the drink into Steve's glass.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve took the bottle from him before he could slop the amber liquid everywhere. He looked concernedly at Tony.

"Fine. I've been more stoned than this and come out alive. Apparently I gave a speech on Nuclear physics once." Tony waved away the concerns. "But try that stuff. It's really good."

"Oh, okay." Steve shrugged and dumped some into his glass, filling it half way before stopping. Tony grinned. A shot had taken Hulk. No way could Steve handle half a freaking glass.

Steve sipped the liquor thoughtfully, tuning out Thor for a moment. "Wow. This is good." He nodded to Tony. "Thanks. What were you saying, Thor?"

The blonde warrior guffawed. "This is truly some interesting drink. Nothing on Midguard quite compares to Asguardian sustenance, but this is grand." Thor gulped down the remains of his drink before refilling his mug with rum.

Steve took a long swallow of his own drink, savoring the smooth feel and taste as he drank. Tony grinned again, feeling well and truly smashed. If that didn't finish Steve off, nothing would.

Tony blinked. Sunlight from the half closed blinds flooded the room, making the pounding in his head double. "Augh." Tony moaned, sitting up against the pillows. Wait, pillows? He looked down. Why was he in bed? He had had a drinking party, right? He never made it as far as bed after one of those unless Pepper forced him to, and she was in DC right now. So how had he gotten into bed?

"Thor, Tony." Steve's voice sounded out from somewhere in the tower. "Dinner."

"Dinner?" Tony croaked. Good. What he needed was an Aspirin, some strong coffee, and some food.

Slowly, he hobbled out of his room, making his way to the kitchen. He looked in at Thor, head cradled in hands, obviously suffering from a hangover, Natasha and Clint bantering good naturedly over the advantages of pistols and bows, Banner cleaning his glasses, and Steve. Steve was not moaning in pain over his head. He was not popping Aspirin like candy. He was carving a freaking chicken, whistling softly, looking for all the world like he had stayed home and read the night before.

"Hey, Tony. Aspirin's in the cupboard over the stove." Steve greeted Tony with a smile. "Bruce made you some coffee already. Think you could hand some off to Thor? I would, but I'm a bit busy at the moment."

"You don't have a headache?" Tony asked disbelievingly. Steve shook his head at him bemusedly. "You didn't get drunk _at all _last night?"

Steve chuckled. "No. C'mon, Tony, you know I can't get drunk. But you and Thor were hammered pretty hard. I had to carry both of you up to bed."

A cough sounded from behind Tony. He turned. Both Natasha and Clint were staring at him expectantly, hands held out.

Shit. He'd never hear the end of this.

Hi! I'm new here. I've published for other fanfictions, but I wanted to expand. And I have. Sorry for the swearing, I usually have a kid friendly vocabulary in my writing, but it seemed like stuff they'd say, right?

As you can see, no couples, only Steve being naive, and Tony being stupid. If you liked this, Review! If not, Review!

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass


	2. Settling In

Settling In

Steve looked around, wide eyed. His rolling suitcase sat beside him, looking as out of place as he felt in the state-of-the-art lobby of Stark Tower. He still held onto the belief that Stark Tower (or, as Natasha had dubbed it after seeing that only the 'A' from 'Stark' remained, the Avengers' place to go harass Tony without permission. Pepper had made it unnecessary by telling them all that they were more than welcome to stay there, full, part, or not at all time.) was the ugliest building he had ever seen, but he still felt the huge amount of money that had gone into making the lobby alone.

"Mr. Rogers, if you would take a left to the next staircase, then two rights, and a left, you will be in the main kitchen. Ms. Stark is ready to receive you there." A mechanical voice that came from seemingly nowhere informed him.

"Oh. Uh, thanks." Steve mumbled. Pepper had warned him about the talking machine that was really an A.I. and operated the security. She had said that Tony had made it with a bit of his own sarcasm and sense of humor thrown in, so Steve shouldn't be surprised if a bodiless voice informed him that he had not made his bed, or that he looked particularly nice in his spangled suit. Steve had taken the advice to heart.

Wondering if this had been a mistake, Steve followed the voice's instructions, suitcase still seeming bizarrely out of place beside him as it trundled beside him. He had ended up taking three sets of stairs, four hallways and finally, ended up in a huge kitchen.

"Hey, Steve." Pepper smiled at him from the counter. Tony stood beside her, one hand holding a cup of coffee, the other hand holding Pepper's hand.

"Hey, Captain USA." Tony nodded. "So, Pepper and I were just debating-"

"Arguing." Pepper put in.

"-over whether or not they had espresso when you were a kid. So enlighten us, did you?"

Steve shrugged. "We might have. It was the depression when I grew up. I tended to avoid looking at luxury items because I knew Mother couldn't afford it on top of food and doctor bills."

"Oh. Well, you were missing out. Here." Tony turned around, putting down his own coffee cup and grabbing a new one off the carousel that sat on the counter. He let go of Pepper's hand and filled the cup with a steaming, dark brown mixture. "You take sugar, cream or plain? 'Cause I'm going to tell you now, this stuff needs sweetening."

"Uh, sugar." Steve picked one at random. Tony handed him the mug.

"Sugar's behind you. Dump in as much as you like. I won't miss it." Tony grinned, reclaiming his mug and Pepper's hand.

Steve turned around and looked at the kitchen island. He was confronted by five steel canisters, all identical. There was nothing to indicate sugar.

"Third one from the left." Pepper told him, sensing his desire to find the sugar without snooping. "Don't worry, the rest are filled with flour, tea, brown sugar and dried apples." She grinned. "If one of them weren't filled with some sort of healthy food, all Tony would eat is a sugar-filled granola bar and coffee."

"Oh." Steve wasn't sure how to respond to this. He just opened the right canister and dropped a small spoonful of sugar into his cup. He stirred it around and sipped the hot liquid. Warmth spread over his tongue, the bitterness soothing him. He sat down on one of the bar stools and tucked his legs up, willing to sit there for a while and finish his coffee.

Tony stared at him. "You think that's good?" He asked incredulously. Steve simply nodded, taking another sip. Pepper jabbed Tony in the ribs with her elbow. "I mean, no offense meant, but I've never seen anyone drink almost black espresso and _enjoy _it."

Steve shrugged again. "I lived off of military food for a few years. I'm used to this type of food."

Pepper nodded. "Tony likes everything overly sweet. So ignore his criticisms."

"So," Steve said after several minutes silence with Tony and he simply sipping their coffee and Pepper sitting on a countertop with a protein bar in her hand, "when are the others showing up?"

"Well, Natasha and Barton are planning to be here in time for lunch, Bruce is supposed to be here in about fifteen minutes, and Thor said something about supper." Tony said. "So you get the good luck of seeing your bedroom before the others get here and one of them takes a liking to it."

He let go of Pepper's hand, but didn't put down his mug. He walked three steps and noticed his wife and colleague were not following. He turned around. "What? Why aren't you guys coming?" He asked, confusion wrinkling his forehead.

Pepper held up her protein bar and Steve took another sip of his coffee. "The cleaning crew was here yesterday, Tony. They won't be back until Tuesday, so if we could keep this entire building as clean as possible, I would feel much better." Pepper explained. She bit into the bar and chewed thoughtfully. Steve drank more coffee.

Tony shook his head. "You guys are weird. What's the point of owning your own skyscraper and having a bunch of maids to clean it if you don't take full advantage?"

Pepper grinned, peeling back the paper packaging on her breakfast. "We live in the skyscraper. Thus, we should keep it livable. Although I get the feeling that it will be a losing battle once everyone's here."

Steve nodded.

"Great, you two are already working together to make me a cleaner, better person. Whippee-do-da. Tell me, Rogers, can you cook? Because if you can, I get the idea that you and Pepper will be best buddies, working to end my ways and save New York, one muffin at a time."

Steve blushed. "I can cook." He muttered into his coffee cup.

"What? What can you cook? Because if you're any good, well. Pepper's usually at work and a super team needs a lot of feeding. And I don't know that anyone else can cook. I can't. Remember the time I made you an omelet, Pepper? It didn't turn out so good." Tony rambled.

Pepper crammed the rest of her breakfast in her mouth and tossed the wrapper into a trashcan. Steve drained his mug, and they both stood up to follow Tony.

"Finally." The billionaire rolled his eyes and set off down a hallway, coffee still in hand. "So, anyway, Pepper guessed you could cook, and I thought that, hey, if someone else could, I didn't need to. And thus, you got the suite closest to the kitchen." Tony passed a few doors before opening one. "Ah, here we are." He nodded. "Feel free to pop your head in and look around. Then we've got to go back before Bruce gets here."

Steve did 'Poke his head in and look around'. He was amazed at what Tony or Pepper, or whoever they had do the decorating, had done. Slowly, not quite believing this room was for him, he stepped inside. Pepper followed him, yanking Tony along behind her.

The room was pristinely tidy. Not a speck of dust lay on the wooden headboard of the bed, or the wooden dresser. A closet sat, empty and door open, ready to receive anything that Steve might dump in there. The floor had soft, beige carpeting, the walls were a green-blue. It looked almost exactly like what he had roomed in as Captain America, traveling performing monkey. There was only one difference.

A huge television hung on the wall opposite the overly large bed, a small cabinet under it. On the top of the cabinet sat a sleek, slim black electronic, which was very obviously expensive.

"Do you like it?" Pepper asked. "A bathroom adjoins, and we have several workout rooms, so this should work, right?"

Steve turned and nodded at her, a smile lighting up his face. "Yeah, this is great. Thanks, Pepper."

She grinned back.

"Forget the décor, look at this bad boy!" Tony dodged around them and headed straight for the television. "This is your ultimate entertainment center: Playstation 4, cable, internet, Netflix. Oh, and we grabbed some old movies you might remember. But look!" Very obviously excited, Tony yanked open the cabinet doors and yanked out a bunch of video games. He held them up triumphantly.

"What's that?" Steve asked, reaching out to examine one.

Tony gaped at him, and Pepper rolled her eyes. "Steve," she smiled, "don't worry about Tony. He thinks everyone knows about the wonders of the modern day world entertainment. Basically, you slide a disk into a slot and move around a little stick and press a button a lot. You're not missing anything."

"Oh. Okay."

Tony opened his mouth, probably about to say that Steve was missing something, when Bruce's voice sounded from the kitchen. "Hey, where is everyone?"

Pepper poked her head out of Steve's doorway "We're in here."

Bruce ambled over, carrying several suitcases. "Hello, Pepper." His usual soft smile was in place as looked in at them. "I see you're getting Steve settled. And I'm more than willing to guess that the over-the-top TV was Tony's idea."

Pepper nodded. "It was. I wanted to put bookshelves over there, but he was sure that this was what everyone wanted. There's one in everyone's room."

Bruce nodded. Steve reached over and shook his hand. "Dr. Banner."

"Mr. Rogers." Bruce nodded.

"Wow, is it just me, or is there some chill in the room? I thought we had a heater installed, Pepper. We did, right?" Tony asked, grinning.

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Tony, there's this thing that resides in the world of grown-ups. We call it polite and formal."

"That sounds dull."

"It is." Pepper reassured him.

"Then I'm not missing much. Hey, Bruce, want to see the lab I made you?"

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"We're here." Clint's voice rang out as he ran up the last flight of stairs. Natasha followed him silently.

"Come in." Pepper greeted them in the kitchen doorway. "Steve and I were just making lunch."

"Steve can cook?" Clint asked in surprise.

"Why does everyone say that?" Steve asked. He would have thrown up his hands, except he was holding a salad, and he'd have to drop it to do so.

"Because you're Captain America, not some housewife who bakes chocolate chip cookies for her brats." Tony supplied. "Why'd you make so much food, anyway?"

Natasha broke in. "Like you said, he's Captain America. The serum that they injected into him to make him Captain America speeded up everything about him. So his metabolism runs four times faster than your's, which means he needs to eat four times as much food as a normal man."

"How do you know that?" Tony asked in surprise.

"Coulson was a huge fan, remember? And I got to spend a lot of time with him. I know just about everything there is to know about Captain America." Natasha replied.

"Nice to know I have some privacy." Steve mumbled.

Bruce chortled. "I think you better get used to it. When Tony hacked the mainframe at SHEILD, he got to know a lot about the rest of us too. Apparently he just didn't retain some of it."

Tony shrugged. "No, but I know Coulson was the one who found your 'body' after your seventy year nap."

"Yeah, can we not talk about my nap? I prefer not to think about it." Steve set the salad bowl on the table and went back to grab a bowl of spaghetti.

Pepper turned to the rest of them. "Be nice to him." She frowned. "He's not used to the future yet."

Tony shrugged. "Sure, whatever. Say, am I going to need to talk to the grocer about the amounts of food we get? Because what you ordered for the week apparently isn't going to hold us over."

Pepper smiled. "No. I already figured on a super team having super appetites. And I already got an idea of how much you guys eat after I saw the shwarma bill. So we're set."

Steve came back with his bowl of spaghetti and placed it on the table. "All that's left is the biscuits." He reported to the table. "So you guys can start filling your plates and I'll get them."

Immediately, Tony reached for the pasta and Natasha grasped the salad bowl. Pepper shook her head at them. "Tony, pass the spaghetti to Dr. Banner, would you?" Tony had dug in, the pasta still in front of him, and not passed around, although there were several pairs of hungry eyes glued to it.

"Oh. Sorry." Tony obligingly shoveled a last forkful of food in his mouth before putting down his fork and passing the bowl to Bruce.

Steve re-entered just as Pepper heaped the plate in front of his empty seat. "Sorry, I couldn't find the butter." He put yet another huge bowl on the table, and two smaller bowls of butter beside it.

He sat down beside Pepper. "Thank you." He picked up his fork and started to eat. Tony, already finished, watched with fascination as Steve slowly but surely finished off his plateful of food.

"Are you aware that Pepper put a third of that bowl of spaghetti onto your plate?" Tony asked incredulously. Steve nodded.

"Yes. So?"

"And you ate _all _of it?" Clint added.

"Yes. So?" Steve repeated.

"So we're signing you up for a food eating contest." Natasha grinned. "You can make Guinness World Records!"

"Guys." Pepper warned them.

"So, Tony, are we going to go work on that formula? I think I found the solution." Bruce turned to Tony. He was done eating.

"Sure. Actually, I thought of my own solution." The two left the table, already speaking gibberish.

"Pepper, do you want help with the dishes?" Steve asked.

"Sure. Clear the table, would you?" She smiled, grabbing a couple of plates on her way into the kitchen.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Hello!" Thor, the last Avenger walked briskly into the kitchen.

"Thor, come in." Steve poked his head out of the TV room. It had been his bedroom, but while everyone was waiting for Thor, it had made sense to gather in his bedroom since it was the closest to the kitchen and where Thor would inevitably end up.

"We've got pizza, soda, and chips." Clint grinned at the god's huge form in the doorway. "Hurry up and get in here, Pepper won't let us start the movie until everyone is sitting down with a plate of food in their lap."

Thor obligingly took a platter and put a pizza box on it. He settled down next to Steve. "What is this 'movie' you speak of?" He asked, opening his box.

Steve blinked. "Uh… A movie is sort of a moving picture on a fancy screen that humans watch for fun."

"Oh?"

"Sort of like you're watching something happen from your house." Pepper tried to explain.

"You'll see." Clint added.

"It sounds strange." Thor chewed thoughtfully on a slice of pizza. "You Midguardians have strange customs."

"Tell me about it." Steve grinned.

And, in the dark room, a television screen played opening credits over the assembled and relaxing Avengers.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Hi! Chapter 2! It actually probably should've been chapter one, but I wrote them in the order inspiration struck.

You've probably guessed by now that this series is going to center mostly on Steve. It is, but it will center on the others in different one-shots too. The majority, however, will be focused on Steve. Why? Because he has a compelling character, I have loads of plot bunnies racing in circles in my head for him, and, oh yeah, he was my favorite Avenger.

So, yeah. Uh… Actually, when I wrote this, I wasn't sure if I'd get any reviews on it what-so-ever, so, if you reviewed, thank you! If not, I need to practice writing more.

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass


	3. Adoption

Adoption

The Avengers do not have pets. There isn't even a suggestion in the SHEILD handbook that they don't have so much as a goldfish. The Avengers just don't have pets.

Until now.

"What is that?" Tony asked in horror as Steve stepped out of the elevator, cradling a pitiful lump of orange and white fur in his arms.

"A cat. He's pretty rough, do you think Bruce could fix him?" Steve carefully held out the cat, which was really more of a kitten, towards Tony. Tony recoiled slightly.

"How would I know?" The billionaire shrugged. "I've got absolutely no experience with animals. Or medical equipment." He added, remembering several infected wounds that he had just slapped a band aid on, some of which had forced him to go to the hospital later.

"Do you know where he is?" Steve asked, cautiously rubbing the cat's ears.

"Where who is?" Natasha strode into the room.

"Bruce. I found a cat." Steve nodded to the small lump of orange in his arms. Natasha leaned forwards to peer at the rescued animal, who took the chance to raise its bedraggled head and mew pitifully.

"Aaw." Natasha cooed. "Aren't you a sweet little thing?" She reached out and stroked his head.

"He's in the third floor lab." Tony interjected, a little weirded out at seeing the Black Widow _coo. _

"Thanks, Tony." Steve grinned at him and nodded before setting off for the lab, Natasha trailing him.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Bruce Banner blinked at Steve and Natasha, then looked down at the cat on his work table. "Let me get this straight. You found this cat beaten up in an alley? And you immediately decided, without any idea about what you were getting into, to take him back to the tower and get him cleaned up?"

Steve nodded. "Can you fix him?" He asked earnestly.

The doctor looked down at the cat again. He took off his glasses and rubbed the lenses wearily on the hem of his shirt before replacing them. "I think so. I'm not a veterinarian, but I do know how to set broken ribs. I'm going to need gauze, warm water, antibacterial ointment, cotton balls and some medical tape."

Natasha and Steve nodded and set out to find the necessary supplies. Bruce looked down at the cat. It looked up at him and mewed. Smiling tenderly, Bruce reached down and patted its head gently.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"She's good to go." Bruce wiped his hands on a sterile white cloth, rubbing cat hair from them.

"Thank you." Steve's face lit up with a small, but happy, smile as he picked up the cat, whose sides were now wrapped in a white bandage. The cat looked much better now that she had been carefully cleaned and cared for. She purred happily under the constant movement of Steve's hand over her body.

"Got a name for the little guy?" Natasha asked, reaching over to scratch the cat's chin. She had sat throughout the operation, hushing the small cat and rubbing her in various places. The result had been an obedient cat and an (almost) snickering Bruce.

"Yeah." Steve nodded. "How about Mission?"

"Mission?" Natasha asked.

"I like it." Steve defended the selected name.

"It fits her rather well." Bruce agreed, packing away the medical supplies.

"How do you like that, Mission?" Steve gave the cat a small cuddle. Mission purred.

"Mission it is." Natasha laughed.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"That thing is still here?" Tony wrinkled his nose slightly at the cat, who was now gazing around curiously at the kitchen. She had followed Steve into the main room on the floor like a small orange shadow.

"Yes, she is." Steve nodded, bending down to pick up Mission. "Look at this." He held her out towards Tony. "A perfect white circle around her eye. It's sweet."

Tony gagged. "Captain America did not just say that a cat's markings were 'sweet'."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure he did." Clint looked up from his Field and Stream magazine. "And I'm also pretty sure that Natasha and Steve will kill you if you don't let the cat stay."

"Mission." Steve interjected. "Her name is Mission."

"You named it?" Tony demanded with horror.

"Her. And yes, I did." Steve rubbed Mission's ears, staring at Tony. "She can stay, can't she?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, _Stark, _can she?" Natasha asked, voice sweet and calm and very_, very_ threatening

Tony gulped. "Whatever. The dumb animal can stay. But it stays in your room, Rogers. You will clean out the litter box and keep it from scratching my furniture. Or else it's back out on the street. Capiche?"

Steve nodded enthusiastically. "Capiche." He leaned over to Natasha. "That does mean that I understand, right?" He whispered.

She nodded.

"Yeah, I capiche." Steve nodded at Tony. Mission purred her agreement.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

The next to meet Mission was Pepper.

"Aw, how cute." She tickled the cat's chin with two fingers. Mission raised her head and rubbed against the fingers, purring like a semi-truck.

"Ah, come on, Pepper." Tony half-whined. "You were supposed to support me in my movement to kick the thing out."

Pepper ignored him as she rubbed Mission's head. "Aren't you a sweetheart? Yes, you are." She laughed.

Steve grinned, and picked up his cat. He hadn't let her out of his sight all day, and Tony could swear the guy had put her down all of three times. "Isn't she? Her name's Mission."

Clint sidled up. "Kind of the name we would expect you to give her." He shrugged.

Tony frowned. "I hate cats." He grumbled. "Come on, Steve. Won't you put it back in its nice alley? I'll get you a goldfish. Or a hamster. Or how about a dog?" He tried to bribe the super-soldier.

"No. I like Mission." Steve cuddled the cat closer. "And you said I could keep her if I took care of her, remember?"

Pepper, Natasha and Clint all exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Pepper?" Steve poked his head into Pepper's office.

"Yeah, Steve? What can I do for you?" Pepper smiled up at the bashful man standing in the doorframe. Of all the Avengers, besides Tony, Steve was her favorite. He was openly honest, a pure gentleman, and usually adorably lost. It was sweet.

"Uh, if you're not busy," Steve paused and looked hopefully at her. She shook her head. She wasn't really busy, just tying up some odds and ends. "Could you take me to the store to get some stuff for Mission?" He finished.

Pepper nodded. "Sure. I'm just doing some odds and ends." Steve opened his mouth to offer to wait. "And I'd like a break." She added. "Let me get my purse."

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"So, what do you need?" Pepper asked, leading Steve through a high-end pet store to the cat section.

"Cat litter, a litter box, food, treats, a collar and some toys." Steve looked at the list in one hand, pushing along the cart with the other.

"Did your research ahead of time?" Pepper's lips quirked upwards.

"Yeah, that laptop Tony gave me is really useful. I don't think I'll ever understand the internet, though."

Pepper shrugged. "Only geniuses understand how it works. Tony is among the few who understand. Don't ask him to explain it, by the way. It's technical and confusing."

"Oh, okay." Steve nodded, happy that he wasn't alone in his naivety.

"Here we are." Pepper stopped in front of the cat shelf display. "They have a few more aisles, so if you don't find everything on this shelf, don't worry."

"Okay, thanks." Steve grinned, already bending down to inspect the collar selection.

"And, Steve? Whatever you do, don't look at the prices." Pepper smiled. "I'll pay for it all. Think of it as a thank you for saving New York gift."

Steve blushed.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"We're back." Steve's voice rang out in the main room as he walked out of the elevator, arms laden with bags filled with cat supplies. Pepper followed him in, taking a seat on the couch.

"Oh, goody. Your beast has taken a liking to both my lap and the remote." Tony heaved himself out of his chair, gingerly holding the cat out to Steve, who dropped his bags and took her.

"Were you a good girl?" He asked, rubbing her stomach.

"She was." Natasha affirmed. She had been sitting opposite Tony, slowly sharpening a knife as Mission played with first the TV remote, then the billionaire's fingers.

"An angel." Clint grinned at Tony. He, like Natasha, had taken a huge liking to Mission. And every time Banner passed her, he petted her. So, all told, Tony was the only one yet so far who disliked Mission. Thor still hadn't met her, which slightly worried Steve. If the god decided he didn't like her, he might side with Tony to get rid of her, and Steve would have to keep her confined to his room.

"Look at what we got you, girl." Steve rummaged in one of the bags until he pulled out a bright red collar with a silver bell dangling off it. He fastened it around her neck. Mission purred happily. Steve scooped her up, dangling his fingers above her head. She began to play with them, batting gently and persistently as Steve wiggled them and drew them back.

"Oh, brother." Tony moaned as the faces of everyone in the room softened as they watched the cat.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Several weeks passed. Thor still hadn't shown up from Asgard, but Steve's worry was abating. Tony had come to a grudging acceptance of Mission, while Pepper took every opportunity to pet her.

Bruce had taken Mission's bandages off, saying that she was as good as new. Her scratches were healed, and she no longer limped slightly on her front left paw.

Steve loved his cat. She never judged, her only comment when he filled his plate was to remind him to feed her, and she liked to curl up in his lap when he sat down. He never really noticed it, but he was happier now.

Pepper and Bruce had noticed and had many whispered discussions about their super-soldier and his cat. They arrived to the conclusion, one day while Steve was napping on the couch with Mission asleep on his lap, that Steve had needed something that accepted him and doted on him.

And Mission doted. She adored Steve. She adored everyone, but Steve was obviously her favorite. He was the only one she would run up to when he got back from missions, and if he came into a room, she would leap off of whoever had been holding her to wind around his legs and purr like a steam engine until he picked her up and sat down.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Finally, the fateful day arrived. Thor strode into the tower one morning, in full battle armor, looking ready to fall on his face asleep. "Hello." He waved tiredly. "Is there an unoccupied bath in this tower?"

Tony nodded. "Sure. There's one next to your chambers, remember?"

"So there is." And the god had stumbled off into his room. He didn't emerge for another eight hours, at suppertime.

When he made his appearance for supper, he looked much more alive. He clapped Clint on the back, bear-hugged Steve, shook Tony's hand, greeted Natasha, and kissed Pepper's hand. "I apologize for my absence this afternoon." He sat down at the table. "I truly would not have done it if I had not battled against evil forces through-out the night."

Tony shrugged. "Hey, we all need to crash after a huge battle against aliens." Thor blinked at him, trying to decide if Tony was joking or not.

"It's fine, Thor." Pepper smiled at him. "Any of us would have done the same."

"All the same, I make my apologies." The god said.

"He's the second-most polite guy I have ever met." Natasha whispered to Clint.

"The first being?" Clint asked.

"Steve, duh." Natasha shrugged. "Steve, is supper ready?"

"Almost." Steve called back. "I've got to finish cutting up the ham. Could you come get the side dishes?"

Natasha nudged Clint. "Come on. He always makes about five extra things. And I am not carrying Pepper's good china by myself."

"So make more than one trip." Clint trailed her to the kitchen despite his protest.

Minutes later, Natasha and Clint emerged from the kitchen, carrying bowls. Steve followed them, a platter of ham in his hands. Mission padded along behind him, licking her lips to remove ham grease.

Thor stared at the cat. "And who is this?" He rumbled, scooping her up and looking at her curiously.

Steve set the ham down on the table and watched Thor carefully to gauge his reaction. "That's Mission. She's my cat."

"A cat? What type of being is this?" Thor reached a hand up and carefully stroked Missions head, as if she might blow up in he put even the tiniest bit too much pressure on her.

"That type of being." Tony nodded at the cat, and began piling ham on his plate.

Thor examined the small creature in his hands. A grin lit up his face. "What a fantastic creature!" He beamed. "If only she were large enough to ride."*

Steve grinned in relief. "Yeah, don't we all wish that." It looked like Mission was here to stay.

Tony moaned as the rest of the residents of Avenger's Tower grinned and crowded around the newest member of the team.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Hi, me again. So, extra-special thanks to LauraDoodles on DeviantART for allowing me to write a fanfiction from of her sketch-dumps! If you want to see Mission on Steve's lap, annoying Tony, and Thor's reaction upon meeting her, you should definitely look at them. Remember: LauraDoodles, Avengers Sketch dumps 2, 7 and 11. If she hadn't given me permission to write this, you would have never seen it.

*This was actually a quote from LauraDoodles' sketch dump 7, where Thor meets Mission. It was so cute that I had to use it.

So, I'm signing off now. Don't forget to review!

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass


	4. Age

Age

Tony sighed and looked in the mirror, glaring at the wrinkles that marred his forehead. He wasn't vain, far from it, but he didn't like the idea that he was older than the other Avengers either.

None of them would ever say anything, but he didn't like the idea that someday, they might go out to fight, and he'll be left at home, alone.

Steve poked his head into the bathroom. "Hey, Tony, do you know where the soap is?"

Tony looked at Steve's reflection in the mirror, and noticed for the first time that Steve doesn't need to shave, even this early in the morning. "Yeah. Try the fourth door to the right in your hall." Steve had gotten half a floor of the tower to himself when Pepper found out that he liked solitude. Tony had agreed with her, mostly because he didn't want Steve to get lost while looking for the gym and end up in one of his labs and breaking something.

"Oh, okay. I can never remember that. Thanks." Steve nodded and grinned at him, before leaving.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Steve looked uncertainly at the razor resting in his hands. There had been a stack of them in his personal supply cabinet, and he was the first to admit he had never used one. Had never needed to use one. But he had glanced in the mirror this morning and noticed that his jaw line was shaded slightly darker than it should have been, and he had remembered that when this had happened to Bucky, he had started shaving.

But still… He didn't want to. He didn't want to shave. It would mean he was growing up, and leaving his past behind him. And if that wasn't scary, Steve didn't know what was. But he also couldn't just grow a beard.

Reluctantly, Steve went into his bathroom, carrying the razor, a blade, and a can of shaving cream. Carefully following the instructions on the can, Steve Rogers shaved his face for the first time. He cut himself twice, but by the time he was done, they were already half-healed, leaving only faint red lines to mark what had just taken place.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Natasha studied the contents of the fridge, eyeing the yogurt. A door banged open behind her, but she ignored it, recognizing the soft tread of Steve as he padded through the kitchen in his socks, Mission following him.

"Hey, Natasha." Steve greeted the assassin as he opened one of the cupboards to retrieve a can of cat food for the purring feline at his feet.

"Steve." She nodded, taking the yogurt and closing the refrigerator door before snatching her spoon out of her coffee mug.

"Good morning." Steve shoveled the cat food into Missions bowl, before covering the can with plastic wrap and setting it in the fridge. He placed the bowl in front of Mission, and smiled as she gulped her way through it.

Natasha stared at the Avengers' team leader. Sunlight streamed in from the kitchen window, bathing his face in the soft glow and emphasizing the curves and rounds of his features as the grin wreaths his face. Somehow, he looked younger, without responsibility weighing him down and his cat scarfing down food at his sock-covered feet.

Natasha felt slightly shaken. Steve couldn't be younger than twenty-three, could he?

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

A week later, Clint was reading _Moby Dick _(again) when Steve popped up in the common living room.

"Oh, hey." He smiled easily, Mission in his hands, his own book under one arm. "You liked that?" He nodded at Clint's book.

Clint glanced up at him, then back down at the page. "Yeah. It's kind of cool."

Steve chuckled, sitting down on the opposite recliner. "I never got around to reading it." He admitted. "I was supposed to in-" Steve stopped. "Uh, I mean, I meant to read it, but never got around to it."

Clint looked up at Steve again, this time, his interest fully focused. "When were you supposed to read it? Don't tell me," he grinned evilly. Steve felt a writhing mass of nerves that was supposed to be his stomach erupt. "That Captain America skipped school assignments?"

Steve chuckled nervously, a relieved grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, even the mighty Steve Rogers skipped school assignments in graduating year. I mean, of course I went to twelfth grade and I graduated, all of SHEILD's records could tell you that." He began to babble, clutching his book a little too tightly, body tense and cat forgotten on his lap.

Clint blinked at Steve. "Steve, you're rambling."

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm gonna go now. Lots of stuff to do. Bye." Steve hurriedly stood up, Mission falling out of his lap. She blinked up at him as he left, shutting the door behind him, apparently not believing that her nice owner had dropped her, and then left the room.

Mission hopped onto Clint's lap and curled up purring. Clint scratched her ears, looking at the door, confusion swirling inside his mind.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Bruce groaned, ruffling his hair with one hand, other hand holding a tablet. Tony, sitting beside him, looked over.

"Huh. What's the fancy equation for?" He asked, scanning the numbers and variables over quickly.

"Oh, nothing much. I think I might have figured out one of the chemical compounds of Veritorse*, but my equation isn't working out, so maybe not." Bruce tapped in a few numbers. The small computer beeped, and showed the wrong result. Again.

"I wouldn't be too put out." Steve was also in the lab, trying to sketch some beakers and fill out a report for Fury at the same time. "No one's figured it out yet for a reason. It's hard." He stuck his tongue out between his teeth as he made a quick curve with his pencil, before frowning at it and erasing it.

"Remind me why you're in the lab, anyway." Tony grumbled.

Steve grinned. "Because you two are supposed to be filling out reports and Pepper doesn't want a hole in the living room floor again."

"That was an accident!" Tony huffed. "How was I supposed to know that large quantities of baking soda and vinegar incased in a small projectile would pack enough punch to tear holes in stuff?"

Bruce and Steve laughed. "You're supposed to be a genius, yet you didn't know that." Steve chortled.

"So?"

"Sure. Hey, what's the date?" Steve asked, switching from his sketch back to his report.

"Uh, the twenty-seventh." Bruce glanced at the calendar on the wall in front of him.

"You don't say?" Steve blinked. "It's June, right?"

"Yeah, why?" Tony asked, filling out his own report.

"Nothing."

"Oh, wait. You're birthday is on the fourth of July, isn't it?" Tony's eyes lit up. "Sweet! Party!"

"How old will you be?" Bruce asked, starting on his own report with a sigh.

"Twenty-four." Steve answered quickly. Too quickly. Both scientists looked up at him.

"Are you two done?" Steve asked, face red. "I've got to go start supper." He left the room in a hurry, nearly tripping over his own feet and the door jam.

"You know," Tony looked at Bruce, "I bet he isn't twenty-three. And I bet he's younger. By a long shot." Bruce nodded.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

July fourth arrived. Pepper had gotten wind that it was Steve's birthday and made a huge chocolate cake, frosted with a white base and red and blue stars. The rest of the team had somehow managed to procure gifts from somewhere, and the various sized boxes, all wrapped in some variant of red, white and blue, were stacked on the table.

Tony had insisted that a grill-out on the roof of Avengers tower was in order, and bought a special grill, steaks, hamburgers and hotdogs. As an afterthought, he had included a salad.

Thor had returned from Asguard for the occasion, bearing his own large wooden box that he had set down on the ground next to the other gifts.

In all ways, the party was in full swing. Clint was taunting Tony, Tony was trying to talk about a new hacking system with Bruce, Pepper and Natasha were making a few last minute calls to caterers (they, unlike Tony, didn't think that meat and beer made a meal.) and Thor was egging Clint on. In fact, the only one missing was the birthday boy himself.

Natasha snapped shut her phone and looked around. "Hey, guys, food'll be here in forty minutes. So, start cooking in ten." She had noticed Steve wasn't there, and a quick glance at Pepper showed that the other red-head had noticed too. "Come on." Natasha tugged her arm. "Let's go find him." She whispered.

"Hey, where are you two going?" Tony emerged from the argument long enough to ask as the two women headed into the tower.

"Girl problems." Pepper called back.

The billionaire paled slightly and nodded. "Uh, okay. Don't hurry." He quickly ducked back into the escalating fight.

Pepper and Natasha glanced at each other, stifling grins. If they ever wanted to sneak out of anywhere with these guys around, all they would have to say is 'Girl problems' and the superheroes would fall over each other to help them to the door.

"Where do you think he is?" Pepper asked Natasha once the door was shut behind them and the others couldn't hear them.

"His gym." Natasha answered promptly. She had noticed that whenever Steve got emotionally frustrated, he would head into his personal gym and begin beating on a punching bag. There was lots of other equipment in the room, and Steve used all of it, but when he was confused, the only thing he touched was the duct-taped red bag suspended from the ceiling.

Pepper nodded. She punched the button for the elevator, and a few minutes later, they were striding into the room. Steve was in there, pounding the poor bag like it had done him a personal wrong. He didn't notice Pepper or Natasha, but kept his focus centered on his fists.

"Steve." Pepper laid one hand on his arm. He jumped, and turned to face her, perfect Captain America smile already taped to his face.

"Pepper, Natasha." He greeted them, putting his hands behind his back like a guilty two year old who was found with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Stuff it, Cap." Natasha ordered, crossing her arms. "And for the love of Pete, drop the smile. We all know it's faker than Tony's hair."

Steve slumped, arms loose at his sides, smile gone. "Sorry I'm not up there. Let me get cleaned up. You guys go ahead."

Pepper patted his back. "You know that's not why we're here."

Steve stepped away from her and began to unwind the guaze from his hands. "I'm fine. Really. Just head up. I'll be up in a bit."

Natasha glowered at him. "Rogers." She barked. "Sit down."

Steve obeyed orders (really, who didn't when Natasha used 'that tone'), and sat down heavily on one of the benches near the door.

"Steve, come on, what's wrong?" Pepper sat down next to him, one hand rubbing comforting circles on his shoulders.

Steve fiddled with the guaze on one hand. "Nothing."

"Bullshit." Natasha plopped down next to him. "A guy doesn't just pound on a bag of sawdust on his birthday while his best friends are making him a meal on his birthday. So spit it out." Her hand, like Pepper's, began to make comforting tracks around his shoulder.

Steve sighed. "You're scary, you know that?" He offered Natasha a half-grin. She nodded, and waited silently for him to start talking.

"I'm not twenty-four." Steve mumbled. Pepper raised her eyebrows at Natasha. Neither of them said anything. "I'm barely a legal adult." Steve continued, still playing with the guaze in his hands. Both women remained silent, their hands never pausing the the comforting circles. "I'm-" Steve paused, and swallowed thickly. "I just turned eighteen today." He confessed.

He glanced up, but neither Pepper nor Natasha's face held any judgement, just smiles. "Steve, we guessed that you were younger than twenty." Pepper informed him.

"You did?" Steve asked, looking her in the eye, confusion plainly written across his face.

"Yeah." Natasha nodded. "You only started shaving recently, you shuffle your feet, your face is still round, and you probably want me to stop now." Steve nodded.

"What about the others?" He rasped. "Do they know?"

Pepper's mouth quirked. "Tony doesn't notice that he hasn't eaten for days on end until I force food into his mouth."

"Clint and Banner probably have guessed, though." Natasha shrugged. "They're both observers."

"And I think that Thor doesn't care." Pepper smiled. "None of them do. Whether you're eighteen or twenty-four, they still know you'll fight for them and lead them."

"And eat all the ice cream when we get back from missions." Natasha added, grinning wickedly. With his metabolism, Steve ran out of energy faster than the others. So whenthey got back to the Tower from missions, Steve would make a beeline for the fridge and any sugary, fatty, pumped-full-of-calories food he could find.

"That was one time!" Steve blushed.

"Actually, more like five times." Natasha sniggered.

"Okay, okay, children. That's enough." Pepper broke in, but she was smiling as widely as the other two. "Come on Steve, go get cleaned up. You've got a birthday party to get to. And the caterers will be here any minute, and I really don't want Tony to get the door. He'll send them away."

"Oh, yeah." Steve grinned back and imitated Tony: "But, Pepper, what more do you need? Beer, meat, look, I even got a salad for you!"

Natasha snickered. "Yeah, that'd be Tony."

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Happy birthday!" Tony clapped Steve on th shulder. "So how old are you, again?"

Steve steeled himself and drew upright in a perfect at attention form. "I'm eighteen." He said clearly.

Tony blinked at him. "Well, what do you know, I was right." He turned to Clint. "Pay up."

Grumbling, the archer reached into his pocket and handed Tony a wad of money. "See, I said you were eighteen, Clint bet nineteen. And these two wet blankets," Tony waved at Bruce and Thor, "Wouldn't bet. Thor said something about not being able to judge age difference."

Steve blinked at Tony. "You _knew?" _ He asked incredulously.

"What? Was I not supposed to? Sorry, but the fact that you don't shave is a dead giveaway. Oh, and you stumbled all over your words while you were supposed to be watching Bruce and I fill out reports a week ago." Tony explained. "Want a beer? You're under age, but if you can hold it, hey, who here is going to judge?"**

"Steve," Thor greeted his companion. "Your deeds are mighty for your age. You deserve this." And without any further warning, Thor dropped the box he had carried in into Steve's arms.

"Ah, thanks." Steve pushed the huge box onto a table. Carefully, he pried it open. A sword, long and gleaming, sat on a bed of Asguardian cloth. "Whoa." He breathed, carefully lifting the sword from its nest.

"As you have a shield, it seemed only right that you should possess a sword. Whether or not you choose to use it in battle, I leave the decision to you." Thor grinned at him.

Steve didn't respond. He was too busy exaiming the shining blade in his hands.

"Great. Now my gift looks cheap." Tony grumbled. Laughter broke out. Carefully, Steve rplaced the sword into its box.

"Let's see?" He smiled. "Does it?"

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Yeah, there are probably several thousand of these 'Steve-is-younger-than-he-claims' stories on this site. But before I ever got on this fanfiction archive, it struck me as suspicious that Steve never had stubble in the movies. So, this was an original idea, even if it isn't any more.

*I don't think that Veritorse is a chemical. It's just something I made up. I think.

**Steve was not an under-age drinker in the movie. That law didn't get passed until 1984, at which point Steve was frozen. And honestly, if he burns his alcohol so fast that he can't get drunk, alcohol is little more than kool-aide for him, isn't it?

So, please review, tell me if you liked this or not (I see my followers and favoriters count go up. Someone likes it. Someone should review). And beware that if you didn't like it, I'll still keep writing. I rejoice in flames.

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass


	5. Boast

Boast

Steve was the last to ever boast. He was always quiet when Tony and Clint began arguing over who was more awesome, he stayed silent when Thor crowed over his battles, and he didn't utter a peep when Natasha began arguing with Clint over who had completed the most missions.

Oh, he had done pretty cool and worthy things, Steve just didn't see any reason in talking about them. It wouldn't change how they had come out, and it wouldn't change that he had done them. And… It hurt. It hurt to remember things that have been over for over sixty years. It hurt to remember Peggy, and his team and Colonel Phillips. It hurt to remember how he won every drinking contest, to remember fighting and sacrifice.

Steve knew his teammates understood, but he also knew that, at the same time they didn't. They understood the battles and lost friends, but how could they even begin to comprehend the idea of losing all of that? To be sent seventy years into the future?

When the team got drunk, or particularly carried away, they would inevitably begin to talk of past missions, past glories, and past adventures that got a little more impressive with each telling. And Steve would let them get into full swing before he snuck away, leaving them to the unchanging past.

He knew it was bad. He knew he should confront his fears, and join the other Avengers, but he couldn't. He would always, inevitably, wait until either Tony or Thor began, smile at everyone, and leave under the pretense of getting more to eat or drink. But he wouldn't come back, and they wouldn't notice. Or so he thought.

One Saturday night, after Steve had grinned at them all, gestured to his empty plate, and left for the 'kitchen', then not returned, Thor stopped in the middle of his story.

"Friends," he said gravely, "Steve has failed to return. As he has every night we relive our past glories."

Clint nodded. "I wondered if anyone else noticed that. Spangles always waits until you or Stark start boasting before he smiles and disappears."

"Probably because those two are the loudest." Natasha kicked Tony under the table.

"Hey, stop that. Alcohol is my friend. It has helped me through many problems, and the side affects are worth it." Tony stated. "But yeah, Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan always leaves. From the first time I opened my mouth."

"We all want to leave when that starts." Pepper, the quietest of the group, smiled from her corner.

Bruce looked around the table. "So I wasn't imagining it?" He asked quietly. "Steve does always leave when we begin."

"Got that right." Clint affirmed, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"We can't leave a fellow warrior as such." Thor agreed. "A warrior who does not relive his glories is either one who has none, and is not a warrior, or one who aches from the inside."

"Yeah, the Cap has a bellyache." Tony rolled his eyes.

Pepper leaned over and whacked him on the head while Natasha kicked him again. Ever since the big age reveal, they had acted like momma bears protecting their cub when someone began to pick on Steve. Tony and Clint had quite a few new bruises.

"You know what Thor meant." Pepper admonished, once she judged Tony to be properly chastised.

"I have been thinking about it," Bruce surveyed the listening audience gather around the table. "And I think the problem is old memories. Steve lived through a war, you must remember. And just when he was so close to winning, it and all he knew was snatched from him. I'm no physiatrist, but I think that would do a number on your mind."

"And," Natasha joined in, "if this continues, soon he may not be able to fight because of old memories. I've been to quite a few therapy sessions, and they all tell you the same thing: talk about it. Or else it _will _cripple you."

"Not only that, but we can't leave him like this." Tony had sobered up. "I mean, he's sorta everyone's favorite little brother. He can't just sit and suffer all on his own."

Thor nodded. "Captain Rogers is a true friend. And as such, he ought to have others to rely on. It does him no good to save all his feelings."

"Great." Clint nodded at them all. "Glad we all agree. Now, anyone got any plans about what we're going to do about it?"

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Two weeks later, the Avengers began again. Steve found himself sitting between Thor and Pepper, both of whom kept hugging or touching him. And Natasha kept a careful eye on both his soda glass and his plate. Whenever Steve was in danger of running out of coke, she got up and got him a refill. When his plate was low on the fatty brownies and popcorn Pepper had made for the occasion, Tony found some reason to go into the kitchen and refill plates.

Steve was beginning to panic. Neither Thor nor Tony seemed to have any inclination to begin taking tonight, leaving the funny stories up to everyone else. And he couldn't use the excuse of food because somehow his plate was always full. To add to that, Pepper kept a hold on one of his hands, and Thor had an arm slung around his shoulders. It would be next to impossible to sneak out.

His prayers of release were answered in the form of his cat.

"Mew." Mission wandered into the room, and promptly headed to Steve to curl up in his lap.

"Oh, gee." Steve faked dismay. Inside though, he was elated. Good old Mission. She had saved him. "Sorry, guys, I got to go take care of Mission. I'll be right back."

"You better hurry," Tony called after him. "I've got tales to tell."

"Yep, sure. Be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail." Steve nodded, waving over his shoulder at the team as he left, one arm cradling Mission.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Tony turned to the rest of them. "I give it twenty minutes. Then we can sneak in under the pretense of worry over his cat."

Bruce nodded. Clint shrugged. "Sure, but for now, it's my turn. Sorry guys, you get to hear about Mission Impossible again."

A groan rose up.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Steve sighed, and plopped on his bed, willingly falling backwards, eagle-spread, onto the blanket. He draped one arm over his eyes, and twitched his fingers over Mission's head with the other.

"Thanks for the save." He whispered to the cat curled up on his chest, purring like a locomotive.

He lay there for a few minutes, before sitting up and putting the cat aside. He pulled on the flannel pajamas Pepper had given him for his birthday before settling down again next to Mission.

"You know," He fondled her ears, "I think you're the best thing in this tower. Better than the pop-tarts, but don't tell Thor I said that."

"Is she better than me?" The door suddenly swung open, and Tony let himself in, followed by the other tower occupants. Steve shot up, guilt clearly written across his face. "I mean, seriously, I know you loved the hairball-yes, I'm looking at you, cat- but really, better than me? Is that scientifically possible? Jarvis, is it scientifically possible?"

"According to statistics, yes, sir." The AI replied.

Tony pouted.

"Steve, what troubles you? A fine Warrior as yourself has many talks to tell and stories to relive." Thor sat down beside the super soldier and reached over to pet Mission.

"And don't shrug your shoulders and say nothing." Natasha ordered.

Steve, who had been about to do just that, stared at her.

"Steve, honey, we want to help." Pepper sat down on Steve's other side, and she, like Thor, leaned over to stroke Mission.

Clint sat down on the floor. "And, stubborn assholes that we are, we're not leaving until you tell us what the problem is. I'm sure Fury wouldn't mind the whole team cramming into an elevator in New York because you won't talk."

Bruce, Natasha and Tony joined Clint on the floor. They sat, legs crossed, looking expectantly up at Steve. He snorted slightly, thinking back to the books he used to read as a kid where the dad would sit down, his kids encircling his feet and tell them a story.

"I don't want to talk." Steve said clearly, petting Mission.

"Tough bananas. Didn't you hear Legolas? We're not leaving." Tony said.

"No, I mean, I don't want to talk about what I used to do." Steve said. "I don't want to, and I don't need to."

"Actually, unless you want a bunch of chaperones, yeah, you kinda do." Clint shrugged.

Pepper patted Steve's back sympathetically. "You better believe them. Once I went on a business trip with my ex-boyfriend, and Tony followed me in the suit. Flew around the hotel, dive bombed the other guy, and wouldn't give up. So chances are that they are very serious about the sticking to you like superglue."

Steve sighed. "Look, I don't want to talk about it." He started.

"But you will." Banner put in.

"But you're forcing me to." Steve glared briefly around the room. "I don't want to talk about the past. It's gone, it won't change, and taking about it won't change it any more than keeping it to yourself will."

"Talk before I take away the gym and have Fury tell you to clean SHEILD's bathrooms. And I'll give the cat to Thor." Tony threatened.

"It won't change anything." Steve protested.

"Steve," Thor pulled him into a one armed hug. "Tell us one of your adventures. Just one, and see if it does not make you feel better."

Steve took the compromise slightly reluctantly. "Once, while I was the traveling monkey-" He began. The Avengers settled down to listen.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Three hours later, Steve was still talking. He told of Peggy, Philips, the lab experiment, Howard, and Bucky. He kept talking. The digital clock on the wall said it was one in the morning, but he kept talking. And his team kept listening. Steve Rogers was going to get used to the future.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Hello, me again! How are you all? Still not reviewing? That's okay. I'll just sit here and wallow in my misery alone.

For the first time: Review answers!

writer314: Actually, someone told me there was no drinking age in England. But I think that the good Captain would have lived by his American laws even overseas.

Qweb: Exactly. They didn't let any stubble on his face. You think he got the chance to shave every morning before a mission? I didn't, so I made an excuse for Captain.

AnnaStormRogers: Thanks!

Huskygirl1998: Okay, your brothers have beards. So? Not all bodies are the same. I know eighteen year old guys who don't need to shave. Steve was like them.

Shadow-Wolf 99: Thanks! Steve was my favorite superhero, too!

Yep, second whack at Steve in a row. Next time it will be lighter. I promise. I have it plotted out, actually. So be ready!

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass


	6. Sick

Sick.

A symphony of groans and coughs greeted Steve's ears as he entered the kitchen.

"What on Earth?" He looked around at his wheezing, sneezing, miserable teammates.

"Cald." Tony informed him through a closed up throat and stuffy nose. "Alb of us. Ebept you, appar'ntly."

Steve was thoroughly worried now. What had happened to the every-morning greeting of 'Well, here he comes. Captain Red White and Blue himself. Don't you look patriotic this morning?' "All of you?" He squeaked.

Pepper, brewing a pot of tea, looked up at him, Kleenex clutched to her nose in an effort to stem the trickle. "Alb of ub." Her bleary eyes were dull, red rimmed and tired, leaving no doubt to her statement.

Natasha and Clint were miserably munching their way through saltines and orange juice, while Bruce sneezed rapidly in succession beside them. Steve mentally thanked God that Thor was not here to be sick. The thunder god would have had a terrible time. He wasn't used to being sick.

"Why are you all up then?" Steve asked curiously. When he used to get sick, either his mother or Bucky would insist he stay in bed all day, and bring him lemon tea periodically. Granted, that was before the serum, when a cold might see him into the hospital. Now, the serum speeded up his healing process, and didn't allow him to get common illnesses.

"Becad who eld ib going to look af'er four Avengirs and Pebber? I sure wouldn't." Clint sniffled. "By head would be bibben off within ahn hour." He coughed pathetically, and Natasha handed him a tissue.

Steve made a quick decision. A decision that he was sure he'd come to regret within an hour, but he still made it. "I'll take care of you guys." He said quickly, before he could think better of it.

Five bleary pairs of eyes turned to him disbelievingly and hopefully.

"Mother taught me how to take care of a cold." Steve defended his rash decision. "You need plenty of rest and sleep first."

Pepper nodded slowly. "You'reb righd." She blew her nose. "Are you sure you bant to do dib, though?"

"It'll be hard." Bruce warned, although he looked no better than anyone else. "Id's five peoble, with tree floors betweeb."

"It's fine." Steve reassured them. "I can handle it. Just make sure you guys get to bed before you fall over and I have to carry you."

Bruce nodded and sneezed violently before hobbling over to the elevator.

"Thaks, Steve." Pepper smiled at the super soldier. "This beans a dot to everybne."

Steve knew she was right as he watched his team file miserably into the elevator, Clint snagging a box of tissues off the counter as he passed. "Don't worry." He grinned. "I'll have tea up to you guys in a half hour." A half hour should give them plenty of time to return to bed and squeeze their way between the covers, right?

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

The kettle began whistle rapidly. Steve hurried over to the stove with five mugs, each containing a different type of tea. Natasha refused to drink anything but vanilla orange blossom, Bruce preferred strong Earl Grey, Clint liked coffee, but would settle for cinnamon apple tea if he had to, Pepper's favorite was peach mango, and Tony… Well, Steve didn't know if Tony even knew what tea was. After searching diligently through the cupboards, Steve had found raspberry citrus, which he figured would work as good as anything.

Carefully, Steve had written the names of the tea recipients on each tag as he waited for the water to boil. He wanted to be certain that Pepper didn't get Clint's, or, heaven forbid, Natasha ended up with someone else's' tea of choice.

Now, the captain carefully poured each cup nearly full before placing it on a tray. He added the cream carton and the sugar bowl, and as an afterthought, placed a bottle of aspirin next them. He then remembered that saltines were good and tucked the box under one arm.

"Jarvis, could you get the elevator for me?" He asked.

"Certainly, sir." The AI replied with all his engineered politeness. "Which floor do you wish to arrive at first?"

Steve thought for a moment. "Natasha's floor." He decided. "Could you take me to her first?"

"Of course." The elevator doors slid closed behind Steve, and ten seconds later, re-opened.

Carefully balancing the try in his hands, Steve walked down the hallway to Natasha's bedroom. He rapped on the door and waited.

"Comeb in." Natasha's raspy voice invited him. Steve twisted the doorknob and entered the darkened room.

"Hey, Natasha." He greeted quietly. "I got your tea. Do you want sugar or cream?"

"Creab." Natasha ordered, then coughed. Steve glanced at her.

"Geez, Natasha! Go to bed, not play on the monkey bars." Steve gaped at her, then put the tray on the bedside table. "Come on." He pulled the assassin away from her miniature gym. She shook his hand off and miserably crawled into bed.

"I haden't been sick in dears." She informed him, coughing.

"Really?" Steve asked drily. He poured roughly a tablespoon of cream into the mug labeled with 'NR'. "I would have never guessed. Do you want some crackers? Or aspirin?"

Natasha shook her head and held out her hands for the mug. Steve handed it to her, careful to make sure her trembling hands could handle it.

"Take a nap. It'll make you feel better." Steve advised, picking up his tray and exiting.

"Dure." Natasha called after him. As the door closed, she took a tentative sip of her tea. The hot liquid washed over her tongue and soothed her throat as she swallowed. Maybe Steve knew what he was talking about.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Clint was next to receive the attentions of his boss. Steve had come into the room to find the archer obediently tucked in bed as he fiddled with an arrow.

"Clint." Steve nodded to the invalid.

"Dteve." Clint looked blearily up at him. "I bate being sick."

Steve chuckled softly. "I know what you mean. I used to be sick all the time. It was frustrating to sit inside with a thermometer in my mouth, wrapped in blankets, while the other kids built snowmen and stuff. Sugar and cream?"

"Sugar, los ob sugar." Clint replied. Obligingly, Steve dumped three spoonfuls of sugar into the cup with 'CL' scribbled on it.

"You dow, I dink we need Avengir mugs." Clint told Steve. "I mean, thed sell thed. Why don't we have theb?"

Steve nodded. "True. Then I wouldn't have to mark your cups." He handed Clint the mug. "Careful, it's really hot. I still need to go take care of Pepper, Tony and Bruce."

Clint winced. "Good lub." He mumbled, then sneezed, sloshing tea onto his blanket. Steve ripped a wad of tissues out of the box by Barton's head and mopped up the mess.

"Gosh, it's libe having a durse." Clint rasped as Steve handed him a fresh tissue to blow his nose in.

"Now you know how I feel." Steve smiled. "Do you need aspirin or saltines, or anything?"

"I'll tack an aspin." Clint mumbled. Steve uncapped the bottle and handed him two of the pills.

"Get some sleep." Steve commanded as he left.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Next to be graced with the captain's attentions was Bruce, who was in bed, glasses on, tablet in hand.

"Oh, hello." The scruffy professor greeted him.

"Bruce, are you still wearing your lab coat?" Steve asked incredulously.

The doctor looked down at himself. "Huh. Yeab, I gued I amb."

"Get into your pajamas." Steve ordered. "You'll feel better."

"Yed, Mom." Bruce smiled up at him.

"Just doing my job." Steve grinned. "Cream or sugar?"

"Neider, tanks." Bruce sneezed and reached for a tissue.

"Okay. Saltines or aspirin?" Steve asked holding up the bottle and the box.

"Crackers, pleadse." Banner held out a hand. Fumbling with the box, Steve pulled out a large handful of the crackers and dropped them into Bruce's palm.

"Let me know if you need anything." Steve called over his shoulder as he left.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Steve creaked open Tony and Pepper's bedroom door. Tony was in bed, reading a magazine, while Pepper sat at her desk and typed busily on her laptop, stopping every few seconds to blow her nose or cough into her elbow.

"Hey, Cab." Tony greeted him, glancing up from his magazine. He sounded as if someone had rubbed sandpaper over his throat, but it didn't stop him from bantering.

"Hey, Tony. Pepper, you're supposed to be resting." Steve admonished the CEO.

"I dowb, I dowb." Pepper's voice was raspy and congested. "But dis needs to be kinished."

Steve glanced at what she was doing. "It doesn't look that important that you need to be sitting at a desk." He put down the tray and picked up the laptop carefully, making sure he didn't hit any of the keys on the keyboard.

"It idn't really." Pepper grudgingly agreed. She had wanted to be in bed, she just felt that work ought to be done at a desk.

"Come on." Steve guided her into the bed and tucked the down comforter around her. "There. Do you guys want cream or sugar in your tea?"

"Sugar." Tony mumbled. It hurt to talk in a normal tone. "Lods ob sugar."

Steve chuckled. "That's exactly what Barton ordered." He dropped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into the raspberry citrus and stirred it before handing the cup to the billionaire. "What do you want, Pepper?"

"Both. But jud a libble of eat." Pepper requested, smiling up at him.

Steve measures carefully, then handed the mug to her. "There you go. Call me if you need anything." He turned to leave.

"Hey, Stebe?" He turned to face Pepper, who smiled at him, her hands cradling her mug. "Tank ou."

"No problem, ma'am." Steve saluted her and dropped the aspirin and the crackers. "Oops. Do either of you want either of these?"

Tony nodded. "Aspin would be dice."

"I'll tack a few dackers." Pepper replied. Steve nodded, and gave them their orders before he left, empty tray swinging from one hand. His team was taken care of.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Steve found that the tower was a lot quieter when everyone was sick. There were no small explosion sounds from the lab, no squeaks of terror as Natasha glared at someone, no laughing fits because Thor wasn't there.

Steve should've enjoyed it. Heaven knows the number of times he tried to hide from all the noise the group made. But all the super soldier felt was apprehension. It was eerily quiet, even with Mission purring on his lap while he read 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'.

He kept looking up, waiting for noise. None came.

Finally, tired of waiting and worrying, Steve gently pushed Mission off his lap and went to the kitchen. He washed his hands and took one of the aprons off the hooks in the wall. Pepper had bought them because 'they add color, don't they?'. Steve found them all too inviting when he was cooking. Tony had had quite the laugh when he came into the kitchen for a donut and found Steve humming as he chopped carrots, his favorite apron (which was red gingham with three pockets and a rooster on the front) tied around his waist.

Now, Steve dug in the fridge, taking out the remains of last night's chicken and the cream. Happy to be doing something, he began on the generic chicken noodle soup.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Here." Steve handed out the last bowl of soup. Tony took it and the offered spoon and dug in.

"Wow, Cab. You mab make the most cliché food eber, but it'd good." Tony swallowed his first mouthful.

"This id really good." Pepper reassured Steve, lifting her spoon back up to her mouth.

"Thanks." Steve smiled.

"So now we know what to do when we're sick." Tony slurped another mouthful of soup. "Call Steve Rogers. Makes the best nanny, mommy, daddy and cook ever. Excluding Pepper, of course."

Pepper rolled her eyes and set down her soup to blow her nose. "So how wad youb day?" She asked Steve.

"Good, good. Too quiet." Steve frowned.

"Don' worry, ebeyone will be up and mobing toborrow." Pepper assured the super-soldier.

"I know." Steve grinned.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Author note time, everybody!

So, anyway, this was terrible. I haven't written something this bad since last summer. Sorry 'bout that. But, Judging by the number of favoriters and followers, the rest of my chapters must be okay.

And, yeah, the Hulk protects Bruce from the common cold. Let me have my fun.

All misspellings were, indeed, on purpose.

Make my day and review!

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass


	7. Knitting

Knitting

Steve Rogers is the Man out of Time, Captain America, and Doter of Mission. And he was busy.

Steve stood in front of the selection of knitting needles in Jo-Annes, trying to decide if he wanted the size 10 or the size eight needles. He looked down at the paper in his hand, a pattern he had printed from the internet. It wasn't very helpful, and, with a sigh, the super soldier took one of literally everything on the shelf.

Cable holders, needles, gauges, tension measures and tapestry needles found their way into his cart before Steve turned to look at yarn. Bright, vibrant colors jumped out at him. When he was a kid, they had yellow, brown, black and blue. Or that was all that his mother found in her special discount store.

But here, Steve was dazzled by three shades of blue, five types of green, four hues of pink, more red than he could count, and all sorts of other colors. This was his favorite part, it always had been. He looked carefully over all the colors, mixing and matching colors, putting some back on the shelf, putting some in his cart.

When he was done, his cart was half full, and he was beginning to wonder how he could take of his purchases back to Avengers Tower on his motorcycle. It was a good thing Tony had insisted on some accessories to hold the groceries Steve usually brought back. Steve had been fine with carrying them on his back in a rucksack, but Tony claimed that as the world's greatest heroes, it would look dumb if one of them loaded all their purchases from Wal-Mart into a backpack and sped down the roads past innumerable staring eyes with it. Steve was pretty sure that Tony was just looking for a reason to spend money.

He quickly walked to the cash register, flushing red as the other customers stared at his huge load of knitting supplies. He knew a few of them recognized him (that little boy yelling "Mommy, look! It's Captain America!" was hard to ignore), but he already had everything in a cart. There was no going back now.

The girl at the cash register blinked at him as he unloaded his supply onto her small counter, but she rung it all up. Steve tried not to look at the rising number on the small screen in front of him. He didn't understand why the future cost so much, but SHEILD paid him, and he didn't look at that either. He knew that they gave him enough to live off of, with a huge surplus. So he tried to put half of it away for charities and his retirement, and didn't really think about the rest of it. Pepper wouldn't let him pay rent, so all he had to worry about were clothes and his share of the grocery bill.

He shoved a wad of twenties at the girl, careful not to count those, either. She counted out his change and handed it to him, which he didn't look at as he shoved it in his wallet.

"Have a nice day." She smiled slightly, handing him his six bags. "And have fun with that." She nodded to the bags in his grip.

"Oh, uh, thanks. You, too." Steve didn't really know how to react to the slight easing tone. He hurried out instead.

Carefully, he arranged the yarn and supplies in his saddle bags, making sure to use as much of the space as he could. Then, glancing around to be sure Tony wasn't around (the guy had a habit of turning up anywhere Steve was), he filled the backpack he had brought against orders.

~SRICA!~

Back on his floor in the tower, Steve unpacked his bags. Purple, pink, red, gold, black, brown, white and blue skeins of yarn were scattered around him as he examined needles, trying to figure out which ones would be best for which texture.

Finally choosing the size eight needles and the red yarn, Steve sat down on the edge of his bed and began to cast on sixteen stitches. Slowly, carefully, he begins his work. His fingers remember the patterns and stitches that he learned so, so long ago.

Smiling, Steve continues with his knitting, sitting on his bed, Mission playing with a piece of loose string beside him.

~SRICA!~

Natasha wandered into her bedroom, intent on watching a good romance movie without any comments from anyone else. She enjoys romantic movies even though no one besides Clint and Steve know. Clint caught her, and Steve guessed. He rented movies for her once in a while, although she noticed that the farthest the couples ever got in his selections was kissing. She didn't mind. His choices were usually adorably sweet.

She glanced around as she entered, and spotted a mass of something fuzzy and pink on her bed. She picked it up. It unfolded in her hands to reveal its form: a cable knit sweater.

Natasha blinked at it for a second. Scanning it, she realized it was home-made. She blinked again, then pulled it on.

The pale pink settled over her t-shirt loosely. It wasn't too big, it was exactly how she liked it. Freedom of movement without loose ends. And it was warm. Sighing in comfort, the Black Widow snuggled into it, reveling in the soft coziness.

She wondered who made it. Someone in the Tower for sure. No one else could get past the state of the art security system. Tony was definitely out, and she was pretty damn sure that Clint couldn't knit. But she would bet Bruce could. Calming therapy and all of that. Steve might knit, it seemed like something comforting he might do. Pepper was also a possibility.

Natasha shrugged. Whoever had done it had done a good job. There were no loose ends or anything. It didn't really matter. She would like to thank the person who made it, but there was no note. She settled down to watch her new movie, comfortable and warm.

~SRICA!~

The next person to receive a gift from the knitting fairy was Thor. Thor was used to the perpetual summer heat of Asguard. As a result, even the early April climate was too cold for him.

The god had stumbled into his room after a trip to Asguard to find a scarf, mittens and hat on his pillow, all red in color.

Thor picked them up and studied them, thinking back to what the humans did in winter before jamming on the mittens, which fit perfectly (Steve's hands were the same size as Thor's. He had measured the mittens perfectly for his own hands before he stopped knitting). Then, he wound the scarf around his neck as he had seen Steve do in winter, before he yanked on the hat, which covered his ears and forehead.

Thor glanced at himself in the mirror. He knew that these were prizes, meant to be worn. He wondered briefly who made them. Though he didn't know it, his conclusion was the same as Natasha's. It had to have been Steve, Bruce or Pepper. Thor was pretty sure the creature called Jarvis couldn't knit.

~SRICA!~

Bruce rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was three in the morning and he finally finished his experiment. Yawning, he wobbled up the steps to his bed and collapsed on it, fully clothed. Something rubbed against his cheek and he sat up to look at the object blearily. Green socks with purple stripes sat on his pillow.

Bruce stared at them for a second before pulling them on. They were warm and comfy. He fell asleep, feet encased in the knitted goods.

~SRICA!~

Clint wandered into the kitchen, wearing the new hand warmers he had found on his bed. He was met by Tony, who was snuggled in a red coat with gold details. Pepper, on the couch, was wrapped in a knitted blanket.

Clint looked at them. "You know, someone is leaving all sorts of nice, warm things on our beds. And I highly doubt it's the tooth fairy."

Steve, sitting at the kitchen island on one of the stools, newspaper in hand, chuckled. He was ignored.

Tony shrugged. "Look, I don't know who's doing it, I just know that it's a hobby I need to take up. Do you know how happy Pepper was to get a dumb hand made blanket from second quality yarn? Much happier than she was when I gave a Scandinavian hand embroidered bed spread. And I paid big bucks for it!"

Pepper spoke up. "It had no personality. This though," She wiggled deeper into the blanket, "was made by someone who knows me."

"See? If I made that, she would be happy." Tony gestured to his wife.

"I'm happy now." Pepper pointed out, sipping her coffee.

"Yeah, But I would have been the one who made you happy. Not some anonymous person."

~SRICA!~

Steve smiled, pulling out a new skein of yarn. He had made another run to the store that day, and this time, he was intent on making everyone sweaters in time for Christmas. Even Fury. If he could get the Director to wear one, his day would be complete.

Still smiling, he cast twenty-two stitches onto his needle, and began clacking, purling stitches like there was no tomorrow.

"Aha!" Clint and Tony burst into the room. "We knew it was you." Tony grinned.

Unfazed, Steve continued his project. "So?"

The archer blinked. "SO? Knitting is a girl's hobby."

"Uh-huh. And in the forties, only men were soldiers. A lot has changed, hasn't it?" Steve mused, still knitting.

"Not to burst your bubble, Captain Spangles, but I'm pretty sure that knitting has always been a girl's thing." Tony rubbed his head.

"So?"

"So Captain America, the embodiment of the American man, the manliest man-besides me- in the nation, cannot knit!"

"But I am, so I can." Steve dropped a stitch and began on the next row.

"But- You- I- You can't." Clint spluttered.

"Look," Steve looked up from his yarn. "I wasn't always Captain America. At one point I was just a sick kid from Brooklyn whose Mom could barely make ends meet." He paused to pick back up a stitch. "Since I was sick all the time, I could sit up and draw and stuff. One day, while Mom was gone, I just picked up one of her projects and started to do what she always did. After that, she taught me all sorts of stuff. It helped her out and it was calming."

He quirked a smile. "Besides, once I got into the military I was glad that I knew how to make socks from the yarn we took from German stores. I sold socks and scarves at what it cost me to make them."

Tony stared at the super soldier, who was ignoring them as he counted stitches. "Hey, uh, can you teach me to do that?" He asked sheepishly. "I think I'd like to make Pepper something."

Smiling, Steve set aside his own knitting. "Sure. Do you want to learn too?" He asked Clint.

"Hell, why not?" Clint plopped down on the floor. "Show us your moves, Cap."

~SRICA!~

Four weeks later, Steve was presented with a blanket. It was made of eighteen huge pieces of knitted yarn, rather messily sewed together. Not all of the corners matched, and all of the colors clashed like symbols.

Steve stared at the mis-matched blanket spread over his bed. He blinked, and noticed a sheet of folded paper at his pillow. He picked it up and read the message written on it, a smile crossing over his face.

"_Yo, Cap. Sorry, had to show everyone what we learned. They insisted on helping us with this. You can probably guess who did what. Love, 'Tasha, Tony, Clint, Pepper, Thor and Bruce."_

Steve looked back over the blanket. Tony's work were definitely the three largest, made of red with knots where he had switched to gold. Several holes where he had dropped stitches were evident.

Bruce had done smaller green rectangles, each one edged with purple.

Natasha and Pepper's were the easiest to pick out. They had the tightest stitches and least dropped and fumbled stitches. They had picked orange and white for their colors.

Thor's were very obviously the ones made of blue cashmere, the stitches huge and the yarn fuzzy from excessive handling.

Clint had opted for purple. His squares were large, like Tony's, but the stitches were tight, like Natasha's and Pepper's.

Steve smiled and picked the blanket up. Seemed like knitting was a team project.

~SRICA!~

I recently took up knitting, and I couldn't help the image that came to my mind. I could see this, but at the same time, I couldn't, you know? But I thought it was hilarious, regardless. I hope you did too!

'Til next Time!

-The Irish Lass


	8. Shopping

Shopping

Thor blinked at the stack of noodles in front of him. Why on Asguard did humans need 'wagon wheels' (They looked too flimsy to hold up any sort of wagon) and 'bowties'?

Steve looked almost as bewildered as the god felt. "Uh, take a box of each?" He proposed, turning to Thor.

Thor nodded, happy that someone else had made the choice. If it had been up to him, he would have closed his eyes and grabbed random boxes, dumping them all in the cart without looking to see if he even had noodles and not pancake mix.

Steve crouched down, resting his weight on his heels as he examined the lasagna and spaghetti on the bottom self. He took the cheapest brands, piling his arms high with them before dropping them into the cart alongside their other purchases.

"Steve, why have we need of so many boxes of noodles?" Thor asked, pushing his half-full cart down the aisle as Steve consulted his grocery list, checking items off and scribbling on it. He was pushing another partially filled cart.

"We don't really." Steve shrugged. "But noodles are fast to prepare, filling, and you can put all kinds of stuff on them."

"Like meat and sauce." Thor suggested. He had taken quite a liking to Steve's cooking, but his favorite dishes involved ground beef and tomatoes.

"Exactly." Steve nodded. "You like stuffed shells, right?"

Thor frowned.

"Oh. It's sort of a fancy lasagna that's stuffed in noodle pockets. But it has more cheese." Steve paused to examine a box of cake mix. "I never got why people buy this stuff." He muttered. "It's basically flour, baking powder and sugar substitute."

Thor shrugged, lost in Steve's terms. "Perhaps it saves time?" He suggested, picking up his own box of 'Funfetti'. He wondered briefly what made it more fun than a different cake. Did humans really place so much value on dots of color in a cake?

Steve shrugged and chucked a box of chocolate cake mix into the cart. "Don't know. I'll make a cake out of this stuff and we'll see if there's any difference."

Thor replaced his box of cake mix and followed Steve as he navigated his way into the drink selection.

Steve pulled to a stop in front of the display. "Tony always gets the most expense stuff there is." He reminded Thor. "So grab whatever looks good and make sure it costs a lot."

Thor nodded, and began checking prices before gathering beverages into his arms. Pepper had seemed to enjoy Ginger Ale, so he took that. Root beer was his favorite, and Steve like coca-cola. Soon Thor had at least one of everyone's favorites in the cart.

Steve nodded. "Great. We still need," he looked down at his list and suppressed a groan. "A lot of stuff. Come on, we can get the cheese, bread and butter all in one stop."

Thor nodded, dropping a last bottle of Mountain Dew into his cart before hurrying off after his team leader.

"Natasha and Clint want to meet back over at that register." Steve nodded to register ten, where a frazzled looking employee was hurriedly scanning items and passing them to her assistant, who bagged them, looking just as tired.

The team had gone out grocery shopping. The six members were divided into three teams, each with their own task, which had been selected by Steve. He had been afraid to let Tony anywhere near food, so he had sent him and Bruce to gather cleaning supplies, ignoring the protests that "I have people who come clean my house! I don't need to."

Clint and Natasha had volunteered to get paper products and then to go supervise the scientists, who would no doubt be examining each product in an effort to find which ones would get their job done the fastest and best.

So that left Steve and Thor with the actual grocery shopping. Steve had made a list for everyone before they had left, but he kept wandering off it. He cringed to think of how the others were doing if he was buying unaccounted for peanut butter and mayonnaise. Tony was probably getting window cleaner (which was not on the list), and Clint had most likely decided that no matter what Steve said, it was a good idea to egg Tony on (not that protesting would do Steve a whole lot of good.).

Thor was just as lost in the world of shopping as Steve was. When Steve was a kid, there weren't fifty different brands of bread. There was the stuff his mother made and nothing else. Thor was used to being handed food, but they both made a valiant effort at their mission. They were getting better. Steve had only gagged at two prices so far, and Thor had only blinked in complete confusion once. It was a huge improvement over the last time.

Now, Steve found himself facing a literal wall of butter, shortening and margarine. Thor stood beside him, both of them surveying the choices in front of them. Thor looked at Steve. Steve looked at Thor. Then they both shrugged and began picking butter at random, dropping several boxes into their respective carts.

"Cheese: Swiss, mozzarella, extra sharp cheddar, peppery jack, and Munster." Steve read off his list. "You want to get that and I'll get the yogurt?"

Thor nodded, the names of the various cheeses firmly engraved in his mind. He pushed his cart over to the selection. Suddenly, it looked much easier. Carefully, he read the name printed on each wrapper, dropping three of each kind in his cart. It was always better to be safe than sorry when it came to meals. The last time it had been Bruce's turn to cook, they had only had half the peppers he needed for his stir-fry. Needless to say, the meal wasn't as good as Bruce's cooking usually was.

Steve returned, and dropped his own armful of yogurt cups into the cart. Strawberry- Vanilla, Passion Fruit, Cherry- Orange and Peach Adore clattered and fell into the crevices between items.

"Okay." He glanced over at Thor, who was busy rearranging his cart. He had learned his lesson after filling it too much one time and a three liter bottle of Dr. Pepper had fallen out, rolled around, banging off of stuff until the lid somehow came off. It had not been pretty.

"All we need now is milk, chicken, olives and," Steve squinted at his list, "dried apples."

Thor looked up. "Did you forget to list breakfast foods?" He asked. They usually ended up with oatmeal, pop tarts (which he was not obsessed with, Man of Iron. He liked the berry ones, and he liked them before bed. It was of no consequence to anyone else.), cocoa puffs and frozen waffles.

"Yeah, that too." Steve nodded, scribbling on a new piece of paper from his miniature notebook. "Here." He ripped the page out and handed it to Thor. "You know what to get."

Thor nodded (he was beginning to feel like one of those little dolls with the moving heads that Darcy was so fond of), and took the list from the super soldier.

"Shall we regroup at aisle ten?" He asked.

"Yeah. I'll get the others." Steve nodded. "Just… don't get lost." This particular grocery store was huge. There were very probably over fifty aisles, and they weren't exactly arranged in any way that actually made sense to either of them.

"The same sentiment to you." Thor grinned, already wheeling his cart towards a random aisle, which hopefully held the breakfast items they were in need of.

Steve laughed.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Steve wasn't laughing any more. Instead, he was trying to cram another whole chicken into his cart without breaking or dropping anything. He wasn't getting very far. Sighing, he carefully balanced the fowl on top of the stack of olives and apples.

All he had left to do was assemble his team for check-out. He was pretty sure that was going to be the hardest part.

After pushing his cart through seventeen aisles, he finally found Tony, Natasha, Bruce and Clint. They were not looking at cleaner. Clint was giggling, reading a greeting card; Tony was heaping said greeting cards into his cart, and Natasha was sucking on a butterscotch disk from an open bag that Steve knew she had not brought along with her. Bruce was playing with his tablet (Steve didn't know how he managed to take it everywhere), completely ignoring the scene in front of him. Steve couldn't blame him.

"Hey, guys, you done? Thor's waiting for us at the check-out." Steve sighed, knowing that scolding them would only get him eye rolls and 'Yes, Mom's.

'Yeah, sure. Look at this cheesy stuff." Tony thrust a card a Steve. "You've got your own birthday card for middle-aged women."

Steve choked at the picture. "I've never stood like that." His 'picture' showed Captain America standing upright, shield held in front of him, and a huge smile plastered across his face. What made it bad was that Steve refused to do publicity. He would go to press conferences, yes, (he didn't need Tony to make snarky comments the whole time, or Natasha glaring at everyone saying 'That's classified. Stop asking before I pull out your spleen.') and he went to the charity balls that Pepper invited him to with a smile. But birthday cards? Never.

"I know. It's an actor." Tony nodded. "But you don't get any money for this at all. He does." Tony pointed to the not-Steve on the card.

"I don't care." Steve shrugged. "Come on, let's get to the check-out."

Tony frowned, but tossed the card on top of the pile he already had in his cart, following Steve.

Steve glanced behind him and felt a little like a mother duck, with the single file of Avengers following him.

He shook off the thought, intent on getting to the cash register without dropping anything any of the three carts they were pushing.

He managed to lead the team successfully to the register, without dropping the perilously rocking chicken sitting on top of his supplies. Thor was already waiting, last in line.

"Hey, find everything?" Steve asked, pulling up beside him.

"Yes." Thor nodded. "Including the granola bars that Lady Pepper is so fond of."

"Great job." Tony patted his arm and began rummaging through his wallet. "Do they accept Visa? Or American Gold?" He asked Steve.

Steve shrugged. "Don't know."

"Both." Bruce tucked away his tablet and ran a hand through his hair. "Heck, this is New York. I'd bet they'd take marijuana as money."

"They have." Clint said seriously. "Fury had a team of agents crack down on a kids' clothing store for it about two years ago."

"That is sad." Steve frowned.

"You know what's sad?" Tony looked up at them. "Unpack the carts! Chop, chop. My experiment isn't going to wait forever."

Steve and Thor obligingly began emptying their carts, stacking the items carefully on the register counter. The girl at the cash register barely looked at them as she shuffled coffee creamer, cheese and cake mix down the line. Then she glanced at them and her mouth dropped open.

Steve looked behind him. He cringed, thinking about what a whack-job set they must look like, with five grown men and one women, along with four carts literally overflowing with goods.

"Oh my gosh, you're Captain America! And you're Thor!" She gasped, staring at them, her hands still absently sliding items across the scanner.

Oh, shoot. Steve inwardly cringed, already taping his best 'all-American-Wholesome-Grain' smile(that's what Tony called it) smile on his face. Beside him, Thor shuffled his feet, but he also smiled his widest, most winning grin at the poor woman.

"Yes, ma'am." Steve nodded, trying to calculate the amount of time he would be forced to sign autographs, how long it would take the entire team to get to the cars, load them and speed home. He believed in obeying traffic laws, yes, but when women were running after him with pens and vast expanses of skin for him to sign, he believed he had his rights.

"That's wonderful!" She beamed, no longer looking so tired, although her hands were still subconiously moving items down the assembly line. "My nephew is like your biggest fan. He loves the whole lighting and shield idea." Steve was still transfixed by her hands (how long had she had this job?), but he managed to nod in time.

"I have to say," She smiled widely at the whole team, "you guys were short-changed. I mean, you save an entire city and Washington tries to make you pay for all the damage."

"I like her." Tony grinned. The cashier (Her tag read 'Marcy') blushed and grinned at him.

"And you're Iron Man. You would not believe how much my sister raves about you. If these two are Toby's favorites," she nodded at Thor and Steve, "you're her idol."

Tony's chest puffed out just a bit, and Clint cut in before he could start bragging. "You know all of us?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "Look, can I get autographs? I know you guys are probably asked this every day, but my family will kill me if I told them I met you and I didn't get them anything."

Steve glanced at his team. None of them looked openly hostile to it. Tony nodded at him. "Sure." Steve smiled.

"Great! Here." She rummaged in her cash register, pulling out some scrap paper. She dug around some more, then produced a pen, which she handed to Steve.

Steve scrawled his name across it, the same way he had effortlessly done while he performed as propaganda. It made him smile slightly as he passed the paper and pen to Thor, who handled them with the utmost delicacy, as if the pen might snap with the smallest amount of pressure. Clint reached for it next, jabbing his name down with speed and precision, before passing them to Natasha, who's signature was loopy and elegant. Bruce signed with his usual chicken scratch.

"Save the best for last, eh?" Tony grinned, easily signing the paper and handing it back to the cashier with a flourish.

"Thanks." She smiled, folding the paper and tucking it into her apron pocket.

"No, thank you." Steve smiled. Somehow, somewhere, people had appreciated what they did in New York. After all the hate mail and blame, it was nice to hear.

"No, I'm pretty sure I was thanking you. I was trapped in here when the aliens attacked. If not for you, I would be dead." She smiled widely, ignoring the accumulating line behind the heroes. "It's nice to realize there are still heroes."

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

This kinda changed from Steve-central, I think. But I recently re-watched the movie, and paid close attention to the end, when everyone's trying to figure out what to do. I saw all the blame, and, well. The Avengers need to meet fans who aren't just fans because they look good. So that was how Marcy was introduced. She will not come back to be coupled with Steve. I'm waiting for the last Captain America to find out if he finds a new love. Maybe Sharon, eh?

Guest review replies!

Girlwithashield: Okay, so first and foremost, thank you for your reviews! They meant a lot to me! Second, thank you for laughing at my characters. It was my aim, and I'm glad it worked.

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass


	9. Laptop

Laptop

Steve is generally okay with electronics. He'll be the first to admit he has broken three phones and put his entire hand through his first touch screen (in his defense, Tony had said to tap it. Steve had technically tapped it. He just didn't do it right, that's all), but he's okay with them. Just not, you know, great.

So of course the super soldier looks at Tony like he's nuts when the billionaire more or less throws what Steve _knows _is a top of the line laptop at him.

It's sleek and dark blue with white trim. And it's good metal, with a nice wide keyboard for his large fingers. Steve is more than willing to bet it was custom made.

"Go on, open it." Tony plops down opposite Steve on the couch, arms folding, smile twitching at the corner of his lips. Steve can't help but think that Tony's acting like a dad at Christmas.

Tentatively, Steve positions the electronic on his lap, carefully opening it.

"Don't worry." Tony rolls his eyes, although his grin is still fighting its way towards an appearance. "I had that thing made of the best metal money can buy. Well, that is usable for a laptop. Anyway, you have to give it some serious thumping to ruin it."

Steve narrows his eyes (Tony did have it custom made. Steve doesn't want to mooch. He only came to live at the Tower because Tony insisted. 'What if there's a huge mission and you're on the other side of city? Huh?'), but he stops being so ginger with it.

"Now you can stop using that stupid out dated thing you bought at a yard sale. Don't lie to me," Tony holds up one finger accusingly as Steve opens his mouth to protest. "Jarvis reported the sticker on it that said twenty dollars on it. It's shameful that anyone who lives in my tower doesn't have the best of anything that I can force them into taking."

Steve tries to hide his smile by looking down at the laptop. It has all the fancy ports, but when he switches it on, he is pleasantly surprised to see all the apps ready, and when he runs the pointer over them, a brief description pops up under each of them. He ignores the wallpaper, which is an American flag waving in the wind.

"Wow, Tony. This is really something." Steve moves his finger around on the little mouse pad, pushing the small arrow over Microsoft Word 2007, Angry Birds and Kindle.

Tony waves him off. "Yeah, I know. Let me know how it goes. I need to get Thor a tested one. The guy keeps breaking them."

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"You put a glitch in it?" Pepper rolled her eyes at her husband. Natasha poked Clint, and they chortled. Bruce wore the same disapproving look Pepper did, although his frown was slightly marred by the way his lips kept twitching upwards.

"Why?" Pepper asked finally, when no explanation seemed to be forth coming.

"I want to see how he'll handle it." Tony shrugged, sipping his coffee. "It's really simple, honestly. All he needs to do is press a couple of keys and hit the mouse twice."

No one agreed with him.

Tony threw his hands in the air. "C'mon, guys! He was friends with my dad. He couldn't have been totally technology inept."

"But our technology has changed a lot since the forties." Natasha pointed out. "He probably doesn't know about HTML and Ctrl, let alone how to fix a computer crash."

"It won't crash." Tony grouched.

"But he thinks it will." Clint retorted.

"Believe me, it's just an experiment. I just want to see how he's adjusted." Tony tried to justify himself.

"He won't appreciate it." Bruce spoke for the first time.

"Probably not. But hey, you only live once."

"Famous last words." Clint smirked.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Kitty, kitty, kitty." Steve called softly. Mission uncurled from her position on the bed and stretched, long and lean with her mouth open in a yawn. Steve smiled and sat down beside her. "Hey, girl. Look at what Tony threw at me." He opened the laptop. Mission blinked at it, uninterested, before shifting closer to him and curling up by his leg.

"Yeah, I think there's some trick thrown in there too." Steve smiled, rubbing her ears. "And I'll bet he wants me to figure it out, like a rat jumping through hoops."

Mission purred, as if agreeing.

"And I'll bet he set the problem on the word thingy." Steve continued to deduce. He knows that's what I'd use the most." Mission purred again.

"Let's give him what he wants, eh?"

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Oh, my gosh Tony. I think I broke it." Steve set his new laptop in front of the billionaire. The screen was lit up with 'Security warning!' in bright red letters.

"Really?" Tony pulled it towards him and pressed a few keys, then clicked the mouse twice. Steve made sure to watch what he did.

"Here you go. Don't break it again." Tony handed the laptop to Steve.

"Thanks. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't fixed it. Fury would have been furious if I didn't hand in my report on time." Steve smiled.

"No problem, kiddo. And hey, you made a joke."

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Steve smiled slightly when the 'Security Warning!' popup blocked his work. Carefully, he pressed the same keys Tony had, and clicked the mouse twice. Nothing happened. The smug smile slipped from Steve's face. He tried again, but the pop up stayed firmly in place.

Frowning, Steve began pressing buttons at random. Tony must have reset it when he 'fixed' it. Darn.

Tony stood outside the door, practically hearing Steve's mild temper rising as he tried to fix the computer. He did hear keys clicking and 'idiot', 'can't go for help' and things like it.

Tony sniggered. He'd need to get Jarvis to turn on the camera (it wasn't usually on. The Avengers were all private people. It had been there before Stark Tower became 'Let's-go-annoy-Stark' Tower. He had simply forgotten to take it down until after Steve was moved in. Then Steve insisted it stayed, because what if someone invaded? It would be useful for spying on them. Tony said they were stupid people if they were breaking into Avenger's Tower of all places), and then he'd gather the team, and they could watch Steve try to figure it out.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Wow, he's getting desperate." Clint noted, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. On the small screen in front of the four Avengers, Steve's hands were knotting into his hair as he tried to figure out the impossible and make the computer work without going to Tony for help.

Bruce leaned closer, zooming the image in. "He's close. He's nearly stumbled across the combination twice."

"But he hasn't yet." Natasha reminded him, stealing some of Clint's popcorn.

Suddenly, the screen lit up on the laptop. The grainy image on the camera screen showed a green 'Congratulations! You're brilliant!' pop up replace the old red one, before it faded.

"Uh-oh." Tony's eyes grew wide. "He looks mad."

"You better hide." Natasha nodded. The billionaire ran.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

Yeah, everyone was OOC here. I don't know what's wrong with my writing lately. Everyone is badly written. You guys better hope I get better, 'cause it's only downhill from here.

On that cheery note, you can give your thanks for this chapter to a random guest. Leave names, people! If you think I might mention you, leave a name! I bet she (he? There aren't a lot of guys on fanfiction.) thought I forgot. Actually, I have several chapters lined up, so I just didn't get around to it.

Guest review replies!

Girlwithashield: Okay, so first and foremost, thank you for your reviews! They meant a lot to me! Second, thank you for laughing at my characters. It was my aim, and I'm glad it worked.

In other news, I am now taking one request a month. You heard right, only one request. If you want to see it, leave a review and tell me what you want. I will pick the most interesting one to me from the suggestions, and give the lucky person a shout out! Also, thought you should know, those who review every chapter usually win. Just ask Cynthia Darling.

'Til next time,

-The Irish Lass


	10. Movie Night

Movie Night

Everyone loves movie night. Everyone. Tony tosses popcorn at the screen (And Steve and Pepper later yell at him and force him to clean up after himself), Bruce gives back history on the effects, Natasha glares at anyone who gags when the couple that everyone saw coming from the beginning kisses, Clint fires comments on lines, Pepper keeps filling popcorn bowls. Thor laughs at jokes no one else gets, and cries when romance momentarily dies.

Oh, he loves movie night too. When he can understand it. Steve doesn't like '_Tremors_' (it was not a good movie, Tony), or, really, most adult movies. The first 'R' rated movie Tony and Clint (they were going to drag him into the twenty-first century if they had to tie him up and gag him) plopped him in front of had him blushing to the roots of his hair and cringing. Pepper had put a strict rule on movie choices after that. Nothing in the player over 'PG-13' until Steve went to bed (and to his own TV, on which he would invariably watch the Discovery Channel).

But tonight, Steve gets to pick. Which meant that Tony was trying to manipulate him.

"C'mon, Steve. You'll love '_Tremors 2'_. It was so much better than the first."

Clint joined in. "How about _'X-Men: The Last Stand'_?"

Natasha glared at them both. Steve was everyone's little brother, and she took her role as big sister very seriously. Quite a few rude comments had been forgotten under her menacing stare.

Bruce looked over. "What're we watching?"

Steve shrugged. "I'm thinking 'Tangled'." He stuck his arm into the huge TV cabinet, then added his head when he couldn't find it in the first row.

Thor swallowed his mouthful (read: entire box) of Junior Mints before he began to talk. Jane had told him no one appreciated seeing his half-digested food, and since then mealtimes had become a little less weird. "'_Tangled_'?" He asked.

Steve emerged from the TV cabinet, movie in hand. "Why not? I suffered through_ 'Friday the Thirteenth' _last week. Now I want to watch something I might actually understand."

Thor tugged the movie from Steve's hands and read the back before laughing. "It seems to be a fine choice." He agreed, passing the DVD to Natasha, who glanced at the cover before handing it off to Bruce.

"After receiving the healing powers from a magical flower, the baby Princess Rapunzel is kidnapped from the palace in the middle of the night by Mother Gothel. Mother Gothel knows that the flower's magical powers are now growing within the golden hair of Rapunzel, and to stay young, she must lock Rapunzel in her hidden tower. Rapunzel is now a teenager and her hair has grown to a length of 70-feet. The beautiful Rapunzel has been in the tower her entire life, and she is curious of the outside world. One day, the bandit Flynn Ryder scales the tower and is taken captive by Rapunzel. Rapunzel strikes a deal with the charming thief to act as her guide to travel to the place where the floating lights come from that she has seen every year on her birthday. Rapunzel is about to have the most exciting and magnificent journey of her life." The scientist raised his eyebrows. "Who wrote this summary?"

Clint snatched it, blinking at the cover. "The girl's cute. I say we watch it."

"Wait, who's cute?" Tony grabbed the box. "Isn't she though?" He mused. "And look at the horse and dude. It's going to be made for eight year olds, I'm warning you, Cap."

"Do you ever look at stuff before you buy it?" Steve asks, reaching for his movie.

"No." Pepper shakes her head. "He doesn't half the time anyway."

"Hey, if it gets more than eight stars, I have Jarvis deliver it." Tony shrugged. "Then my maids unpack them, stick them on my shelf, and I have bragging rights. The end."

"Well, then, let's watch this now." Bruce sided with Steve. "That way, you'll actually watch something innocent for once."

"Hey! I watched My Little Pony last week."

"For two minutes, before brushing your teeth to get rid of the sweetness of it all." Natasha reminded him.

"I still watched it." The billionaire argued.

"Well, I've been wanting to see this one anyway." Pepper settled down on the couch beside her husband. He put an arm around her, and she snuggled into his side.

Steve pushed the disc into the player, settling back onto the sofa beside Thor, who was already going through his third box of Junior Mints. Steve wondered idly how much sugar the god could take before he began to buzz.

"_This is the story of how I died."_

"You sure you want to see this?" Tony raised an eyebrow. Pepper poked him, silencing him so that she could hear the next line.

"_Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story and the truth is, it isn't even mine."_

"How can it not be sad? You died!" Clint protested loudly. Steve nudged him.

"Shut up." Natasha hissed. "I want to see this."

Clint and Tony both bit back comments about how the Black Widow is watching a Disney Princess movie and chose to watch and comment later, rather than comment now and get their heads bitten off.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"_Now at last I see the light_

_And it's like the fog has lifted!"_

Thor sniffed, cramming popcorn into his mouth. Tony whispered the song into Pepper's ear. She kissed him softly. Natasha and Clint didn't seem to move, but if Steve looked closely, he could see their hands, intertwined and meeting to form a bridge between the two assassins. Steve smiled, turning his attention back to the movie.

A piece of him nagged, ached. He remembered Peggy. She would have loved this song.

"_And at last I see the light_

And it's like the sky is new"

Steve smiled, losing himself in the movie. He wouldn't spoil this by thinking of things lost, never to be regained. And, finally, it didn't hurt to think about those things.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

"Okay, I hate to admit it, but the Capsicle picked a pretty good one tonight." Tony began picking popcorn pieces up off the rug.

Clint nodded grudgingly. "Yeah, nice job." He punched Steve in the shoulder.

The super soldier grinned down at the shorter man. "Pick on someone your own size."

The next week, the newest Disney movie,_ Frozen_, is in the player. The week after that, _Brave_.

Steve ventured further into kid's movies. No one complained.

_Finding Nemo,_ _Toy Story 1, 2_, and _3, How to Train your Dragon, Epic, _and_ Up_ are received really well. _Free Birds, Puss in Boots, _and _Open Season (1, 2_ and _3)_ are not liked. At all.

But movie night has slowly become PG rated, the team out doing each other to find new favorites.

Everyone loves movie night.

~Steve Rogers is Captain America!~

The movies I approve and disapprove of have been listed. Please do not take any offense with my personal preferences.

Also, some *ahem* personal news: this upcoming Monday marks my one year anniversary on this site. Yay me!

Review replies!

humusandpeeta: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!

Ne: I made it up on my own, honestly. I never knew that Supernatural existed until I joined this site. Still don't know what it is.

lunavenger: Thanks! That meant a lot to me. Glad you liked it!


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